My dear readers, some of you may recall a previous installment or two where I made mention of the estate I share with my sweet Penny Dee, an indulgence that I owe to my delight in occupying a place that has sheltered generations of my family. This pride in its history can come at a steep price, as even the slightest renovation could threaten the integrity of the entire building. To provide but one example, we recently discovered an issue with the wiring in our kitchen and uncovering the trouble’s source was a painstaking and costly procedure. Nearly the entire wall had to be removed piece by piece, a process that eventually exposed not only the electrical issue but remains of one Caldwell Hauntedhouse, a great uncle of mine who was responsible for much of the estate’s hidden passageways. Old Caldwell was terribly fond of these corridors and I am told he could navigate even the most byzantine routes. Unfortunately, his mind was less sharp when it came to things like regular mealtimes and sufficient ventilation, and eventually he came to his final rest in the halls he so loved. As much as we would like to give Caldwell a proper sort of burial, we have been informed that the house has settled since his passing and his remains have become a load bearing structure. Removing him would almost certainly cause a collapse of a most disastrous nature. I suppose we could patch up the hole that gave us our first glance of the chap, but my sweet Penny Dee has suggested that a handsome frame and perhaps a bit of foliage might make his presence seem more cheery.

Miguel Martinez (Jaden Michael) is also quite familiar with fighting to preserve a beloved institution. He and his companions have spent much of their youths hanging about a local storefront used to peddle foodstuffs and various household items. Tony (Joel “The Kid Mero” Martinez), the kindly proprietor of this establishment, has been steadily losing revenue due to shifting economic circumstances in the Bronx. Miguel is most unhappy with this state of affairs and has proposed a “block” party that will raise awareness and much needed funds for Tony and his business. Though he is a mere lad armed with little more than handmade placards, Miguel remains optimistic that his campaign will meet with some success. 

One of the primary reasons that Tony’s financial prospects have dimmed is the arrival of Murnau Properties, a rather posh real estate venture that has been aggressively purchasing lots in the neighborhood. Miguel is already cross over the presence of this real estate behemoth, and so he is not at all pleased to discover that the company is operated by a faction of vampires who are deeply interested in the local cuisine. Led by a mysterious “commander,” these bloodsucking Bronx developers have been draining residents of their vital fluids while procuring their properties. Unfortunately, Miguel does not have much success convincing those in his community that supernatural entities are responsible for both the high cost of living and the alarming number of missing persons. And so, it falls to him and his plucky band of youngsters to stop the upscale undead from becoming neighborhood fixtures. 

I imagine many an audience member will view Vampires vs. The Bronx and see nothing more than youngsters running about and plunging stakes into the hearts of unholy murder mavens. It is an enjoyable and relatable scenario, but I suspect director writer and director Oz Rodriguez may have had something of a message in mind when he set about penning this particular tale, one that relates specifically to housing. Surely all of us have been given the impression that blood drinking nocturnal types are shamefully wasteful when it comes to residential resources, galavanting about large gothic estates and the like. And yet the vampires of Murnau Properties seem to hardly need any space at all -- floor plans for their initial complex reveal nothing but lines of coffins, as apparently no partition or privacy of any kind is needed beyond the box one uses for slumber. This is all clearly a reference to the “tiny house” movement, an ecologically friendly approach to habitation that Mr. Rodriguez must sympathize with deeply. It is a most savvy manner of introducing this conscientious philosophy to a wider group of viewers. I can only hope that this subtle presentation does get not lost entirely amid the entertaining fare that surrounds it.

Vampires vs. the Bronx runs 85 minutes and is rated PG-13 for violence, language and suggestive references.